


A Flutter of Wings

by ivanolix



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon - Book, Canon - TV, F/F, Female Characters, Femslash, LGBTQ Female Character, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-01
Updated: 2012-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 15:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/345735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivanolix/pseuds/ivanolix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa and Margaery go falconning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Flutter of Wings

Wolves should trample roses into the mud, Margaery thinks with the hint of a smile. She clucks at the falcon on her wrist and feeds it a morsel of meat, lips curved with a private expression as she looks to the girl on her right.

Sansa tosses the falcon into the sky with enough strength, yes, and the yearning in her eyes is stronger than the change in seasons—yet she's frail, and if there's strength then it's deep within her bones.

Sansa is a wolf who will be cowed by a rose, Margaery tells herself. The falcons fly together and the wind tangles red hair with brown, and Margaery Tyrell laughs as if life is a song. Lions fight with wolves; roses seduce them. There are no defenses as Sansa smiles, hesitant. She's nearly forgotten how.

"I always wanted to be a falcon," Margaery says, slipping closer to the other girl and cocking her head. "To fly free."

Sansa casts her eyes to the sky so that they mirror its bright blue. "But they don't fly free. They always fly back to us."

"Some call that love," Margaery says, but her fingers reach to tangle with Sansa's. They're gloved, but Margaery can feel the gentleness in the Stark girl's hands, and the warmth. "But it's a cage too. Perhaps the worst kind."

"You're very wise," Sansa murmurs, giving Margaery a shy smile.

 _So are you_ , Margaery thinks but doesn't yet say. _Wise and beautiful and too good for them all. We don't deserve any of them, lions or stags._

She says nothing because it's too soon. She kisses Sansa on the cheek and squeezes her fingers. "I don't want to be a falcon anymore, though," she confides with a smile.

The breeze sends stray red curls across Sansa's face and she pauses to adjust them, so careful and serious. There's but little warmth left in those eyes, yet she tries for more, always trying. "What _do_ you want, Lady Margaery?"

"You." A pause, a breath of air and a heart's beat, and then Margaery laughs again. "As my sister, I hope, soon enough."

"So do I," Sansa says, with another shy smile. For a moment she looks almost disappointed at the explanation.

And Margaery's heart beats just a little faster. _You will be my wolf someday, won't you? Not fierce except in protection. Wild and free and yet warm and sweet. Oh Sansa, you will be mine. You must._

She squeezes Sansa's hand again, and takes her running across the field as they watch the falcons fly.


End file.
